


Kisses in the Rain

by LaDemonessa



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/pseuds/LaDemonessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred writes a P/K so...oh God, it's just so wrong.</p><p>Ahem, Tom and Harry find love and a happily ever after Fred Style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kisses in the Rain; The Courtship

**Author's Note:**

> This...again, I admit nothing. I'm not saying I had anything to do with this. If I happened to be in the room when this was being written...no, in fact, I don't even admit that much. Just...oh God, just read it.

Kisses in the Rain - The Courtship  
by the Fred, Lover of Wesley's Ass

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry Kim was a patient man, which in the Delta Quadrant was a good   
thing. If he had been on a regular Starfleet ship, he would have a   
promotion -- but he was still an ensign. If he were on a bigger ship, he'd  
have larger quarters -- but he still only had one room. And if he had been  
back in the Alpha Quadrant, he would be married -- but he was still  
single. The last was tearing him apart. 

It hadn't taken long for Harry to forget about Libby. He had loved her as  
a boy loves a girl, not as a man loves a woman. And although he had been  
attracted to many women on Voyager, his mind always returned to one face  
\-- Tom Paris's. Tom was the first thing he thought of in the morning, the  
last thing he thought of at night, and usually the main thing he thought  
of all day long. He was in love, and bad; but how could he ever tell Tom?  
It didn't take a genius to know that Tom was completely heterosexual, plus  
he was completely taken -- by a half-Klingon at that. 

"Why did I let it go so far," Harry murmured despondently, his eyes on the  
stars as they swept past the viewport in his quarters. "Why do I love the  
only man on the ship I can never have." 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

He had thought duty shifts would be easier now that the blond pilot was  
regulated to gamma shift. Tom's warm, liquid tenor wouldn't send his blood  
pressure through the roof, and his piercing cerulean glance wouldn't send  
lightning bolts to Harry's cock at the worst moment. Harry wouldn't feel  
the urge to bend the flyboy over his console and take him there, right in  
the middle of alpha shift, damn the consequences. But Tom's replacement at  
conn only emphasized what Harry couldn't have. Not on the bridge, not in  
his quarters, not in the holodeck, not in a grassy meadow on a deserted  
planet.....

"--phase variance, Ensign Kim?"

Harry jumped, startled; but fortunately his console supplied him with the  
correct answer to the Captain's question. She gave him a hard look as she  
acknowledged his reply, letting him know she wasn't fooled for a second.  
Her glare said it all: get yourself together, mister, or get off my  
bridge. He swallowed and brought his mind back to his work. 

Shift finally came to an end. Harry briefed his replacement, then   
hurried to the turbolift before anyone else could join him. The doors  
shut; he slumped against the wall and let out the breath he hadn't  
realized he'd been holding. He had to conquer this, he told himself, or  
he'd end up scrubbing Jefferies tubes with Tom. Shoulder to shoulder, back  
to back....ass to ass....thigh to thigh....skin rubbing skin through thin  
uniform fabric....a hand brushing across his groin....a tongue lapping at  
his earlobe...."Oh, Tom...." he groaned, before he came back to reality  
and found himself standing alone (thank the gods for that) in a stationary  
turbolift with what felt like the hardest cock in the Delta Quadrant. He  
scooted out the open doors, his eyes on the ground, his mind on warp  
equations, not seeing the object of his desires standing at his door --  
until it was too late. He slammed into Tom, throwing him into the wall  
ass-first.

"Hey!"

"Omigod, Tom, are you all right?"

"Shit, Harry," Tom growled, "you sure know how to greet an old friend."

Harry flushed, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "I -- I guess I didn't  
see you."

"I guess not." The pilot grabbed Harry's hand and hoisted himself up.  
"Guess Ensign Paris isn't as noticeable as Lieutenant Paris was."

"It's not that," Harry replied as they entered his quarters. "It's just --  
my mind was on something else." He studied his friend as the door closed  
behind them. "You're still upset about the demotion."

"I'm more angry over spending a month in the brig, but I won't lie --  
losing that pip hurt." Tom flopped onto Harry's sofa, stretching an arm  
out over the back. "But what really pisses me off is I could have helped  
those people. But no, Captain By-The-Book has to bring me back and make a  
lesson out of me. Don't help people unless the Captain says so."

Harry listened silently as Tom continued to pour out his frustration. Part  
of his brain was still focused on Tom's anger and bitterness at having  
been punished for doing what he had thought was right; part was thinking  
that even so, Tom had been wrong to try to impose his beliefs on an entire  
planet; but most of Harry's mind was on Tom's long, lean physique, his  
long fingers, his generous bulge, those blue, blue eyes.....

"....and okay, she's coming off a major depression, but you'd think   
she'd want to see me after a month. But no, the warp core needs babying,  
or she's in the middle of some damn diagnostic. Worst part is, I think  
she's really just avoiding me." Tom's eyes strayed down to his hands, then  
back up to Harry's face. "Has she said anything to you?"

"We don't talk much anymore," Harry said, not adding that he was so   
jealous of her he couldn't stand to see her face.

Tom snorted. "Another great relationship bites the dust." He shrugged at  
Harry's shocked look. "It's not like I wasn't expecting it. Ever since we  
left the Void she's been ignoring me. I think Joe Carey sees more of  
B'Elanna than I do." He turned and stared out the viewport, his face a  
turmoil of emotions. 

"Listen, Tom," Harry said. "I just got off shift. Wanna grab some dinner  
and run a holoprogram?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "My holodeck privileges have been revoked until  
further notice. Not even allowed to go in there unless it's ship's  
business."

"You're kidding."

He turned back to look Harry straight in the face, his blue eyes   
glistening. "Do I look like I'm kidding? No holodeck privileges, no   
replicator rations, no PADDs except for ship's business...and fuck knows  
when it'll end. I gotta tell you, I'm seriously thinking about blowing  
this place."

"What?" Harry all but screamed. "You can't leave Voyager!"

"Excuse me, but what the fuck is there for me here?" Tom jumped up and  
began to pace. "No responsibility, no free choice, nobody cares a flying  
pig's shit about me..."

"I care." The words came out before Harry could stop them. Panicking, he  
spluttered, "I -- I mean I didn't I--"

"I know what you mean, and yes I know we're friends, but --" Tom   
suddenly stopped in his tracks. "That's not what you mean, is it Harry?"

"I -- I mean, I care what happens to you, and I care," he stammered,  
looking up into Tom's face. "I care about you." 

Tom dropped into a chair, too stunned to talk.

"I never wanted you to know," Harry began. "You were so obviously in love  
with B'Elanna, and to tell the truth I didn't want her to kill me. And  
even if you hadn't been seeing her, how could I tell you when you've never  
even looked at a man? How could I admit I've fallen in love with my best  
friend who --" He dropped his head into his hands as tears welled up in  
his eyes and spilled over, leaving little dark spots on the carpet.

Seeing the younger man's tears tugged at Tom's heart. His throat   
tightened with emotion as he rose from the chair and crossed to where his  
friend sat. Reaching out, Tom brushed his fingers over the glossy black  
hair, over the tense neck to the even more tense shoulders.

"Tom...don't."

"Harry. Look at me."

Shaking his head, Harry refused to look up. When Tom's gentle hand   
attempted to lift his chin, he pulled away.

Dropping to his knees in front of Harry, Tom now looked up into his   
face. "Why are you telling me this now, Har?"

"I'm ... I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of seeing you with someone  
else. I'm tired of waking up by myself."

"Harry..."

Hearing the pity in Tom's voice, Harry was disgusted with himself, and  
with the whole damn situation. "Paris - just drop it, okay?"

"No....not this time, Harry. Remember what you said to me about my   
father and quitting? I think it's time to practice what you preach."   
With that, he slid his hands from the younger man's shoulders to cup his  
face between long pale fingers. 

Looking deeply into his friend's eyes, he slowly closed the distance  
between them and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's trembling lips. 

Harry stilled for a moment, too afraid to actually feel the soft   
butterfly caress, then pushed him away forcefully. "Don't do it!" he half  
sobbed, half yelled. "Don't you fucking pity me Paris!"

"Harry--NO!" Tom protested. "It's not like that..."

"Bullshit!" He jumped up, wiping his hands over his tear-stained cheeks  
and runny nose angrily. "I'm not some mercy fuck or a friggin' charity  
case!"

"Harry!" Tom's face grew stony with anger. "You're my *friend*, why the  
hell would I..."

Harry felt like a fool. His face was red with embarrassment and his   
chest burned from the sheer ridiculousness of his position. "Oh God---oh  
shit--I feel so STUPID!" he groaned, as he tore himself away from Tom and  
strode across the room.

Tom approached him warily, his own face suffused with pain. "You're not  
stupid Harry--don't ever think that!" Harry sniffled, his eyes as wide as  
a child's, his face filled with such poignant sorrow that Tom nearly  
smiled. Biting his cheek to prevent yet another fatal error he entered the  
shadow of the viewport where Harry now stood and carefully lowered himself  
on one knee.

"Harry...look at me..." The celestial man looked down in amazement at the  
soft-faced man smiling gently in his shadow. "Harry...I love you. You're  
my friend, my companion---until now, I've been calling myself every kind  
of pervert for having fantasies about someone who thought of me as a  
brother!"

"Paris...Tom..." Harry shook his head defeatedly as if to deny what Tom  
was saying.

"No Harry---dammit! Listen for once, okay?" Tom sighed in smiling   
exasperation. "B'Elanna was nice and for a while I thought it was love,  
but I knew it wasn't a forever thing. You and I...we understand one  
another," he grinned. "You don't put up with my shit, Har -- I like that."

Unable to prevent himself, Harry gave a damp grin. "Well, it's a hard job  
but somebody's got to do it."

Suddenly, the fair haired man grew serious, "Not somebody -- you. Only  
you." He reached out one long-fingered hand to his companion and Harry  
trembled. "Harry, maybe this is too fast, or maybe I'm just an idiot. But  
I can't see why we should spend years of our lives dancing around each  
other when we both know what we want. We could both be dead tomorrow." He  
paused to grasp both of Harry's hands in his as a tiny tear formed in the  
corner of his eye. "Harry, marry me."

The younger man stood transfixed, unable to move let alone speak. His  
mouth opened, closed; his eyes blinked once, then again. Finally, he  
managed to squeak out, "M--marry you?"

Tom nodded in understanding. "I know it's kind of sudden, and I don't  
expect an answer right now, but I spent a lot of time thinking in the  
brig. I realized, Harry, that you and I were meant to be together.  
B'Elanna, she's a nice girl, and I won't deny it was a big ego boost to  
find out a girl that beautiful was in love with me, but -- but she's not  
the one. You are."

Harry was still in shock. "I -- I have to think about this. I can't just  
\--"

"I know, I know," Tom murmured as he clambered up to stand in front of the  
younger man. "Just think about it. I'll be here." He kissed Harry again,  
just a soft little peck on the cheek, and then he was gone.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

For the next month, Tom fulfilled that promise. Every time Harry turned  
around, he would find Tom...in the messhall, on the holodeck, even at the  
gym. Oh, Tom was never obvious about it, but Harry knew that he was  
waiting for an answer. When Tom and B'Elanna's breakup became public  
knowledge, Harry felt an irrational surge of guilt, and he studiously  
avoided gossiping about it, afraid that he would reveal his true feelings.

Some days he thought his heart would burst; some days he felt as if the  
entire idea was a stupid joke. What did Tom see in him? he asked himself  
as he regarded himself in the mirror. What did they really have in common?  
Tom was hard, tough, no-nonsense, but an idealist who would risk his  
career to save people he didn't even know. Harry was quiet, introspective,  
artistic, but pragmatic - or cowardly, maybe. But just when Harry had  
convinced himself it would never work, he would see Tom at the beach, his  
hair mussed, teaching Naomi Wildman to build a sandcastle, and all his  
carefully built defenses would crumble as if they themselves were made of  
sand.

He loved Tom, and Tom loved him. How could he let such a good thing slip  
away?

But how could he marry a man whom he'd kissed only one time!?! It   
couldn't be that pat--that easy. No one just fell into marriage   
instantly--there were rituals to learn, personal facts to root out! He  
didn't know little things like what color his toothbrush was or what side  
of the bed he preferred. He didn't know if he stood or sat when he went to  
the bathroom! These were things a person should know before they married  
someone. In fact, they could be perfect strangers--they hadn't even dated  
yet! 

A voice echoed between already pounding temples, "So...go on a date."

Not for the first time, Harry Kim wished he believed in a god he could  
pray to. He needed guidance; should he follow his heart and say yes, or  
should he take things slowly and find out more about Tom? Because Tom was  
right in one thing: they could be dead tomorrow. They might not have the  
time for a long courtship -- or any courtship at all. He swore at himself  
for taking so long to come to a decision. A month of indecision, a month  
of sitting in his quarters wringing his hands -- where had it gotten him? 

The voice echoed again, "Go on a date."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So this is your mother's recipe?" Tom asked before spearing a chunk of  
fish.

"My dad's. He did the cooking." Harry replied as he refilled Tom's   
glass. "It's one of my favorites."

"Mm, it's good." 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Tom smiled and put down his  
fork. "Harry, we've eaten dinner together I don't know how many times, and  
suddenly you're so nervous I swear you're ready to jump out of your skin."

"Do you sit or stand?" Harry suddenly blurted.

"What?"

"Do you sit or stand? You know, when you..." and he looked over at the  
fresher.

Tom blinked a few times, looked at the fresher door, and turned back to  
give Harry a puzzled look. "And this relates to our dinner...."

"I need to know, Tom. Do you sit or stand?"

"I stand, usually." 

Harry took a deep breath. "Good."

Tom raised his eyebrows as he picked his fork up and returned to his meal.  
"Okay, fine."

"It's just the kind of thing you need to know."

"If you say so, Har."

"It is!" Harry insisted, then paused. "I'm sure that there are some  
things about me you want to know."

Tom contemplated his statement for a minute as he chewed. "Nope."

"Nothing?" Harry asked hopefully.

Tom sighed then dropped his fork silently, "Okay Harry, how do you pee?"

"No! I mean....well..."

"Harry..." The Asian man's eyes lifted to the soft dulcet tones of his  
would-be lover. "I know everything about you I need to know. I only have  
one small question and I've already asked it once."

Harry froze; his heart pounded in his throat for a brief but utterly  
terrifying moment. "Uhh..."

Tom rose from the chair and walked around to kneel at Harry's feet.   
Taking his face in his hands, he kissed him until he felt breathless. "My  
mother's middle name was Smyrna..." kiss, "I have a scar on my left knee  
from when I climbed a tree to spy on Lucy Tannenbaum because she had  
breasts..." deep kiss, "I dress left."

Harry felt himself sucked into a vortex of pure sensation as Tom's   
tongue and lips caressed and enflamed him. "Yesss..."

Paris paused. "Yes, you'll marry me or yes, don't stop until we are   
reported as AWL?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Both."

Paris gave a wide, earthshattering grin. "That can be done." And again  
they kissed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

To be Continued....


	2. Kisses in the Rain; The Wedding

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"I do *not* want to wear white!"

"Harry...."

"White is for funerals, Tom," Harry Kim explained. "My mother would never  
forgive me if she found out I wore white to my own wedding."

Tom Paris rolled his eyes. "And my mother would kill me if she found out   
I got married in red."

"How about blue?"

"Sky blue, maybe....Computer, display male wedding outfits. Parameters,   
humanoid and sky blue."

As they flipped through the suggested styles, Tom sighed. "You know, it   
would be easier if we took Ensign Zetar's advice and had a nude wedding."

"They'd sure know who the best man was."

"Hilarious, Harry. Oh, I like this one."

"You like lace?"

"Lace is good."

"For women," Harry replied.

"Well, some men wear lace," Tom quickly countered.

"I'm not wearing lace. It itches --and besides, I like velvet."

"Won't velvet be too hot for a beach?"

"It's a holosuite; we can adjust the temperature."

"Look, it's traditional in your culture to wear tuxedoes. We'll wear   
tuxedoes and I will choose the colors according to my culture," Harry   
suggested.

Tom considered a moment. "Fair enough, but I choose the style of the   
tuxedoes."

"Please, Tom. Not lounge lizards," Harry pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Some of Earth's best music came from Vegas. We could have a whole Vegas   
motif."

"I am not getting married Vegas style. This is my wedding and I want you   
to take it seriously. No Vegas!" Harry said, on the verge of tears.

"You know, it's my wedding too! When do I get to do something my way?"

"All right! You can choose the music for the reception, but I am not wearing  
a wide lapel loud tuxedo to my wedding!"

"Well, thanks so much for condescending to let me choose the reception music.   
So kind of you. I suppose you wanted to play that sleepy classical music by   
all those dead guys. The stuff you play on that stupid clarinet!"

"As a matter of fact, yes! I wanted to play Greensleeves at the wedding!"   
Harry shot back.

"Greensleeves!" Tom shook his head in amazement. "You want to play a song   
about some guy whining for his mistress at OUR WEDDING?"

"But it isn't --"

"Why would you think -- what would give you the idea --" and Tom collapsed   
onto the sofa in tears. "You -- you'd rather be with her, wouldn't you?"

"Um....her?"

"Libby," Tom sputtered through his sobs. "You don't really love me. Maybe   
we should call this whole thing--"

"Honey, no!" Harry blurted out. Gathering Tom tenderly into his arms, he   
whispered into his hair, "I've been playing that song for so long I forgot   
what the lyrics were about. Hush, hush..."

"I'm just so worried that you don't love me and you're just doing this   
because you can't have *her* and I'm your second choice and I'm never good   
enough to --"

"To what, Tom?"

Tom sniffled a bit and looked into Harry's deep, dark eyes. "Is that   
why you won't make love with me, Harry? You still want Libby?"

"No! Tom, no..." Harry blushed. "I thought...you knew."

"Knew what?" Tom's brows drew together in consternation.

Harry blushed near purple. "I'm a...virgin."

Tom frowned for a minute before smiling tenderly, the last of his tears   
drying up. "Oh. Well, I haven't really been with all that many men either..."

Harry blanched. "Not with men--with...you know..." Tom appeared totally   
clueless and Harry sighed again. "Tom, I've never...done it. With *anyone*." 

Tom blinked. "You're kidding."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not all of us have worked their way through the   
Delta Quadrant by seducing every new alien we met."

"You're..." Tom gestured uncertainly, before finally unsticking his tongue.   
"Never? Not with Libby? *Ever*?!?"

Harry appeared contrite. "It's not a disease, Tom--it's how I was raised."

Tom backtracked quickly. "No-no! I mean...I mean...Wow."

"Wow?" Harry raised a sardonic brow.

"It's just that I'm..." He grew serious suddenly and touched Harry's face   
tenderly. "I'm so flattered. You love me that much--you waited so long..."

Harry kissed the palm of Tom's hand. "I love you," he stated simply then   
grinned. "Even when you're being intolerable."

Tom kissed him and for a long moment they embraced, all harsh words   
forgotten. After a moment, Tom lifted his head and looked at his love   
solemnly. "You do realize that this means I was right."

"What?" Harry was thoroughly befuddled.

"White wedding."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry gave a sigh of satisfaction. Everything was finally settled: their   
outfits, the reception (including the music, which Harry eventually allowed   
Tom to choose), the honeymoon. They had even chosen their rings and   
composed their vows.

Now all they had to do was wait -- and worry.

Tom was a good worrier, Harry had to admit; every day he found something   
new to panic about. Yesterday it had been whether Neelix's wedding wreaths   
would clash with the decor. Today it was the honeymoon.

Harry had his own doubts, of course. Would Tom become frustrated by his   
inexperience? Would he eventually get tired of him? Would he go back to B'Elanna?

He looked up to see the object of his insecurities enter the Mess Hall.

"Hey, Starfleet," she called out as she approached his table. "What's   
on the menu?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I think it's some kind of pancake."

She grimaced as she sat down. "Maybe I'll pass. It doesn't look like it's   
sitting too well."

"B'Elanna, I'm getting married in three days and I don't even know -- oh   
God, Maquis," he groaned. "What the hell am I doing getting married when   
I've never even--"

"Never even," she repeated in confusion. "You mean --" and she broke out   
in an enormous grin. "So that's what Tom meant by a white wedding! You   
little scamp!"

"Hush, keep it down. Everyone's looking at us."

"I doubt anybody's terribly shocked, Harry," she giggled as she pinched   
him on the cheek. "But it's so cute...."

He frowned. "Cute it may be, but -- oh gods; I'm so afraid he's going to   
be absolutely disgusted that I don't know what I'm doing. What if he   
ditches me because --"

"Now stop that right now!" she cut in. "Virginity is *not* a disease."   
She looked around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. "You want...  
some advice?"

Neelix appeared from behind them, "Advice? On what?"

"Go away, you little spotted..." B'Elanna began.

"On the ensign's virginity?" Neelix continued before she could stop him.

The holodoc appeared beside them. "What is the fascination with sexual   
status people have?"

Harry blushed and began to thump his forehead on the table. "Oh God..."

Chakotay came up to their now full table and clapped Harry on the   
shoulder bracingly. "Y'know, I was once a virgin myself."

"No kidding," B'Elanna said sarcastically before scowling at the   
entire group. "Now everyone who is not a part of this conversation go away!"

Chakotay chuckled and motioned for the doctor to follow him. The Doctor   
gave Harry a look that practically screamed, "Hmmm--must find some tests   
to run on that fine young VIRGINAL specimen!" before moving away. Neelix,   
however, did NOT take the hint. "Seems to me, if you want advice on sex,   
the best person to ask is the Talaxian!" He plopped down. "Me."

"Oh yeah?" B'Elanna said nastily, "And what would you know about it?"

"Well..." Neelix began cheerfully before catching the insult and giving   
the half-Klingon a frown, "as a matter of fact, Talaxians are the most   
sexually advanced culture in the galaxy."

Harry, now being totally ignored, hid his face in his hands and waited   
for the ceiling to drop on his head.

Neelix shook his eyebrows flirtily and grinned. "Next to Ferengi, Talaxians   
are said to have the...uh...most flexible *ahem*," he paused, "well, you know."

"Know what?" B'Elanna countered.

Neelix hushed her. "Not in front of the virgin."

"THAT'S IT!" Harry thundered, rising. "I'm outta here!"

He pushed his way to the doors and barged into the hallway, his eyes   
fixed on the ground. A familiar voice called out, "Ensign Kim." He stopped   
and turned back to find Seven of Nine hurrying to reach him.

She ignored the other crew members passing by them in the busy corridor.   
"I have been informed by Commander Chakotay that you lack sexual experience.   
If you wish to rectify that deficiency, I would be pleased to copulate with   
you at a mutually acceptable time."

"NO!" he shouted, shocked. "Please, I -- Seven --" He searched for the right   
words. "That's not necessary. Thank you, but I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

He felt his face turn beet red once again as he dragged her to a side corridor,  
ignoring the muffled snorts and giggles that followed them. "Seven, I want to   
be a virgin on my wedding night."

"Then why is your virginity considered a problem?" she asked.

"It isn't, not for me. It's them --" and he gestured towards the Mess Hall doors.   
"They think it's a big joke."

She cocked her head in confusion. "But virginity is a natural state of   
existence. Why would the crew consider it humorous?"

"They just do, Seven. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the Bridge."

As she watched him leave, she made a mental note to discuss this unusual   
development with the Captain. She did not want to become the target of such   
laughter herself.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Janeway rubbed the bridge of her nose painfully. "Seven, I..."

"But is it not so?" she asked quizzically, "Do humans not find virginity   
distasteful?"

"No." Janeway shook her head for the hundredth time. "What ever gave you   
that impression?"

"Ensign Kim has revealed that he has never copulated and several crew members   
seem to find this..." she paused, "I believe they would classify their emotional  
state as 'amused'."

Janeway squinted her eyes. "He what?!?"

"Ensign Kim is a virgin." Seven again cocked her head quizzically. "Does this  
reaction mean that you too find this state of being offensive?"

"No!" Janeway hurriedly injected. 

"Are you then a virgin?"

Janeway's mouth fell open for a moment as she debated how to answer this   
particular question. "Nooo...but that does not mean that being a virgin is  
a bad thing."

Seven absorbed this for a moment, "Then why are so many people surprised by   
the ensign's state of sexual inactivity?"

Not for the first time, Kathryn wished she could turn to someone else to   
answer her 'ward's' questions. "Because, given the age that we are living   
in, a certain amount of promiscuity is expected. For Ensign Kim to have   
been a virgin this late into life shows he...well, is an unusually moral   
person."

Janeway wished she could pull the words back in as soon as she'd said them   
as the cogs began to work behind Seven's crystalline eyes. "So, if one has   
copulated then they are not moral?"

*I have such a headache,* Janeway thought, as once again she attempted to   
explain. "Seven, when I said that Harry was unusually moral, I meant that   
he had succeeded in following his own personal moral code. Many Humans believe   
it's right to wait to have sex until marriage. Since Harry shares this belief,   
he's done very well to resist temptation and remain a virgin. That doesn't   
mean that every other unmarried person on this ship is immoral." She gestured   
to the seat beside her on the sofa; as Seven sat, she continued. "You see,   
most of us also believe that each individual has to set his or her own moral  
values."

"And if one does not value virginity...." Seven ventured.

"Then being a virgin isn't a big deal." She took a sip of coffee. "Why does   
this interest you anyway?"

"I also have no sexual experience," Seven admitted. "I am however unclear as   
to how I should consider my state."

Janeway smiled and patted Seven's hand motherly. "Well, you think about it,   
make your own decision. But remember, whatever you decide is your choice   
and nobody else's."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"What do you think it is?" Tom murmured, turning the item upside down and   
peering at it in confusion.

Harry read the card. "'In celebration of your bonding. May you have a joyous   
and peaceful life together.' From Vorik."

Tom smirked. "Maybe it's a bomb."

"Maybe," Harry interjected, "it's a firepot." And he took the gift away from   
Tom and set it right side up on the side table. "I like it."

"You like everything."

"If our friends care enough to spend their rations on a gift for us, we   
should be grateful."

"Yeah, right," Tom snorted. "You go thank Ayala."

"Hey! I've always wanted to read Gone with the Wind! And we are *both* going   
to thank him."

"I am not--"

 

They turned towards the door. "Come in," Harry shouted. The doors slid   
open to reveal a most unexpected visitor.

"Captain!" Both men jumped up to welcome her as she stepped in carrying   
a nicely wrapped package.

"I'm sorry to interrupt..." she began only to be silenced by Tom's protests.

"No interruption," Tom grinned, looking at the package. "We're always looking   
for more booty to add to the collection."

Harry elbowed him with an exasperated noise as Kathryn handed them the package.   
"Ignore Tom, Captain," Harry said as he gave Tom a superior look. "We haven't   
gotten around to housebreaking him yet."

Tom smiled crookedly, "Very funny."

Kathryn smiled as she sat down across from her two officers, "Actually, it is   
rather funny," she smiled to herself. "Open it."

Smiling curiously they opened the package together, "Oh wow." Harry said as he   
lifted the contents from the box.

Tom looked at the small porcelain dog and smiled. "Housebroken--I get it."

Kathryn gave a small nod toward her gift. "That was given to me by a friend   
right before I took command of Voyager. It was to remind me of home," she   
smiled brightly. "It's only fitting that you should receive it for the new   
home you've discovered together."

Even Tom appeared moved by the gesture. "Thank you, Kathryn."

She sighed, then rose to her feet. "Well, I'd best leave you two to your   
plans..."

"No wait!" Harry stood as well. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to join us   
for dinner?"

"No--you two should be alone right now, but thank you for the invitation."

As they walked to the door, Janeway continued to speak. "Let me know if you   
need anything for the wedding." She turned and grinned widely. "And--if you   
ever need any advice, my door is always open."

The doors shut as the two held hands tenderly. "That was really nice of her."   
Tom said softly.

"It was, wasn't it?" Harry replied, suddenly a bit uncomfortable.

"What's wrong, Har?"

Harry bit his lip. "When she said we could come to her for advice, well..."

"Yeah?" Tom enfolded him in a light embrace as he looked into his downcast   
features.

"I tried to..." he cleared his throat, "ask B'Elanna something the other day   
and some people overheard us." he scowled, "A LOT of people, actually."

"What was it?"

"I wanted to know how I should....what I should....what you would like...." 

"You asked her for sex advice?"

Harry nodded. "In the Mess Hall. Oh God, Tom; everybody was laughing at me,   
or if they weren't laughing they were fighting about which one of them had   
the most experience. Then Seven offers to -- it's not funny, Tom."

"What'd she do, Har? Offer to bust your cherry for you? Oh God!" he howled,   
holding his stomach as he laughed himself hoarse. "Don't tell me she tried   
to seduce you in the Mess Hall!"

"In the corridor, actually," Harry growled. "And it is not funny!"

Tom struggled to contain himself. "Of course not, love. It's just that --   
I'm sorry, Har. I really am, but I keep imagining her giving the Captain   
the third degree over this. You think that's why she came here tonight?"

"Probably. And if you're finished poking fun at me...."

"Poking fun?" Tom echoed, suddenly contrite. "Hun, I wasn't laughing at you.   
I was -- laughing with you." He enveloped Harry in a bear hug. "I would never   
treat you like that." He pulled back and took Harry's face in his hands. "Why  
don't we eat in tonight. You're going to need your strength if you're going   
to survive B'Elanna's bachelor party." 

"Don't remind me." He grasped Tom's wrists and squeezed. "And you're going to   
need your strength if you're going to endure Chakotay's."

Tom gently pulled his hands free and tipped Harry's chin up for a light kiss.   
Harry leaned into him and allowed his hands to caress his strong, hard chest   
under the slightly rough material of his uniform.

Moaning a bit, Tom pressed Harry into the cushions and began to nip at his   
lips playfully, worrying the full bottom lip between his sharp white teeth   
before growling, "So, I'm not housebroken, huh?"

Harry gasped as Tom nibbled down his jaw and then on the side of his exposed   
throat, "No...but who's complaining?"

Tom chuckled darkly then pressed into Harry playfully, instantly regretting   
it as their hardening erections inadvertently bumped against one another   
causing them both to moan and gasp.

Harry bucked, thrusting his hips up against Tom's, instinctively craving   
more. His senses were overloading. Tom's smell, his taste, the feel of his   
hard, lean body through the uniform fabric; the shivers of lust pooling   
in his belly were driving him insane.

But Tom suddenly pulled away. "Wha - what - no, don't --" Harry stammered.

"Harry," Tom panted, "we can't do this. Not now." He stood and held out a   
shaky hand. "We just can't. You've waited this long; we can wait another two   
days."

"Oh gods.....okay. You're right," Harry murmured. "I -- it was just so good.   
I don't know if I want to wait."

Tom grinned. "Well I do, and I can't wait to take my husband for the very   
first time. But it might be a good idea if we ate in the Mess Hall tonight   
and spent some time apart."

Harry pouted. "Why?"

"Because I don't know how much temptation I can take!"

/\/\/\/\

"Oh God, B'Elanna, this is so embarrassing."

She laughed as she stuffed a slip of latinum into one of the strippers'   
G-strings. "Lighten up, Starfleet; they're only holograms."

Harry ducked as the other stripper jumped up on the table and thrust his   
hips into his face. "Did you program them to do that?" He looked up at the   
dancer, who winked back; he rolled his eyes and turned back to B'Elanna.

"Holograms or not, I still don't see why -- "

"Harry!" Sam Wildman called out. "Congratulations! Having a good time?"

"Well, it's a little crowded, and I don't know about these guys," he replied,   
nodding towards the strippers, "but otherwise it's great. What'll you have?"

Sam eyed the closest hologram, licked her lips, then snickered. "Just a   
synthale, I guess."

"Hands off the merchandise, Sam," somebody shouted from the corner. Sandrine   
walked through the door of the back room and held up two bottles of champagne.   
"You can look, darlings, but those delicious young things are property of the   
house! More champagne?"

B'Elanna held up her glass instantly and even Janeway chuckled, "What the   
hell--make it a double."

Sam gave Sandrine a crooked grin. "You're a hologram, Sandrine. What possible   
use could you have for them?"

Sandrine winked as her accent deepened attractively. "Ask that nice young   
Doctor the next time he pops up to my boudoir after all the 'real' people   
have gone to their cold beds for the night."

Catcalls and laughter filled the room at that and even B'Elanna appeared   
floored. "No way!"

Sandrine plopped down beside them and toasted the air merrily. "You know   
what they say about bald holograms..."

Kathryn, who had been trying to keep a dignified front, totally lost it   
and began laughing loudly. "Oh gods!"

Seven looked up in confusion, "What do they say?"

"Well, ma petite--" Sandrine whispered something low and bawdy into the   
innocent young Borg's ear.

"That seems illogical," Seven stated after a moment. "Ensign Kim, you are   
a male. What does the lack of living hair follicles have to do with the   
length and breadth of your penis?"

Harry buried his red face into his hands and groaned. One of the male dancers   
stooped low and said in a rich baritone, "If you really want to find out, I'm   
wearing a toupee." Harry sank deeper into his chair as B'Elanna, who was   
sitting beside him, laughed so hard her chair fell backward knocking her to   
the ground.

"Tom," he thought feverishly, "I hope you're faring better than I, my love."   
He paused that thought as he saw Janeway roguishly pat one of the dancers   
on his bare taut bottom, "But not by much."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So, in conclusion, I'd like to welcome Tom to the league of married men, and   
wish him the best of luck."

Chakotay nodded as applause filled the teepee. "Thanks, Joe. I'm sure that   
all of us, even those of us who've escaped the noose as of yet," and he blushed,   
"share in your sincere wishes for Tom's happiness." He raised his juice glass.   
"To Tom."

As the crowd toasted him, Tom smiled, desperately trying to stifle the yawn   
that threatened to emerge. "I'm -- touched," he began, taking a sip of cactus   
juice to clear his throat. "Guess I didn't realize how highly you thought of me,  
although I do admit that after the first hour I sort of felt --"

"Embarrassed?" Chakotay asked.

"Overwhelmed?" somebody else said.

*Catatonic,* Tom thought, before stammering, "No, I suppose I just didn't   
think it would ever be like this. I hadn't imagined -- is it really warm in   
here?"

Chakotay grinned. "You know, Tom, Harry's been saving himself for this.   
Don't you think you owe it to him to purify yourself before the wedding?"

"Um...purify?"

"It's a tradition among my people to hold a cleansing ritual before any   
major change in life, such as a marriage." He gestured to the warm rocks   
lining the buckskin walls. "That's why we came here, Tom. To offer you a   
ritual purification so that you and Harry can begin your life together   
on equal terms. Computer, create drum."

The drum materialized in the center of the teepee; Tom gingerly picked   
up the drumstick that shimmered into being beside him. "You want me to play."

"I want you to relax, Tom," Chakotay replied, as he began to drum. The   
others followed suit; a slow, steady pounding that shook Tom to the bones.   
"Just relax and listen to the rhythm. Let it move through you, and as it   
does let it shake loose all the guilt, the pain...."

They continued to drum. Suddenly Ayala looked up and whispered, "Um,   
Commander?"

"Yes, Gregor, I know -- let him be."

Tom was lightly snoring now, the stone poking into his backside the only   
aggravation to his nice dream state in which he and Harry were making love   
in the middle of a hot desert oasis. Just as his dream began to take a most   
wonderful turn, he was sharply elbowed awake by a frowning Tuvok.

"Huh?" he said, dumbly looking at his companion.

"Commander Chakotay is preparing to call the spirits of his ancestors,"   
the Vulcan replied blandly. "I would regret it if you were to sleep through   
such an honor."

"Oh yeah," Tom said, disheartened, again hiding his yawn. "Ahh--thanks."   
His eyes watered as great gusts of smoke blew in his face and a sweaty   
officer whose name he could never remember despite having served on the same   
ship for years stretched his arms above his head, exposing his apparent   
disregard for deodorant.

He turned back to Tuvok, "Thanks a *whole* lot."

As Chakotay began an annoying keening yell and several half-naked and smelly   
men who were NOT Harry began to keen along with him, he sighed and rolled   
his eyes heavenward. "Har--I hope you're less miserable then I am right now."

Neelix tapped him from behind gaining his attention. "Y'know, Chakotay was   
going to do this boring played-out Bachelor party thing at Sandrine's, but   
this is so much better." The Talaxian sipped his nauseating cactus pulp   
merrily. "Good thing Ensign Kim said you probably would want to do something   
different for a change, huh?"

"Then again, Harry..." Tom thought with a scowl as Chakotay tossed some   
water on his head which dripped slowly down his nose, "I hope B'Elanna is   
forcing you to do some nice STRENUOUS Klingon rituals right now."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" 

Harry blanched, picking the G-string off his shoulder with two fingertips   
as B'Elanna danced on their table sandwiched between two beefy strippers.   
"C'mon Starfleet!" she cried, as she grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled   
him up. "Let's see some ACTION here!"

One of the strippers turned to him, swivelled his hips and slithered up his   
side. Mortified, Harry tried to jump down but found himself rooted in place   
by a pair of strong, muscular arms. "Ooh, you're a cute one," the stripper   
breathed into his ear, barely loud enough for him to hear over the hoots and   
screams coming from a dozen overheated drunken women. "Are you sure you're   
taken? Seems such a shame...." the hologram moaned, his hands slowly sliding   
around the young ensign. "To put all this away and never take it out to play."

"That's enough, everyone," the Captain suddenly said, lurching to her feet.   
"We've all had our fun -- some of us more than others -- but Harry's a nice   
sweet guy and I wouldn't want to embras -- imburas -- make him turn red   
any more."

"But Captain!" B'Elanna cried. "Harry gotta have some fun before he putsh   
on the ol' ball and chain. Hell, why not? Itzh only a hologram. Kahless,   
you people'r so uptight!" She gesticulated wildly, almost falling off the   
table in her enthusiasm. "Look at all of us. We're having fun for the first   
time in God knows how many monsh, and why not! You, me, Seven, even Sam--"

They looked around. "Sam?" the Captain called. "Did she leave?"

Seven pointed towards the back of the room from her seat on the pool table.   
"Sh'went back there 'bout half an hour ago with..." but her voice trailed   
off as she slumped into a ball.

"She didn't!" Sandrine howled, as the rest of the women dissolved into   
laughter. "Pierre is MINE!" She stomped towards the storage room, followed   
by the rest of the crowd. Harry took the opportunity to slip out the doorway   
and make his escape.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Tom watched the crowd dizzily as sweat ran down his body. This was sheer   
hell--where were the strippers? The beer? Hell, the air conditioner...?

Chakotay turned to the group of sweaty officers and held a feather high above   
his head, "I will now summon the spirits of my ancestors to this circle of men.   
I ask that you close your eyes and look deep within, find the core of your   
being and allow the smoke of their sacred fire to reveal the paths our lives   
must take."

Tom looked up suddenly. *Close your eyes? Yeah, you do that pal--Tombo's   
outta here!*

All the men raised their chins, eyes shut tight, as the fire blazed scorchingly  
high. Once again Chakotay began his low thrumming chant while Tom attempted   
to sneak away as quickly as possible.

He rose to a crouch, his hair barely brushing against the slanting walls of   
the teepee. Sucking in his stomach, he eased his way around a shrieking,   
howling Neelix before ducking his head through the flap of the teepee and   
passing through the arch into the corridor.

He paused to take a deep breath of the cool, clean air.

"That good, huh?"

Tom smiled at his fiance. "Oh God, Harry, not in a million years would   
you believe what Chakotay cooked up."

The younger man laughed. "There's no way it could have been as bad as   
B'Elanna's version of a--"

"Yeah, right," Tom cut in. "I'm sorry, Har, but my idea of a bachelor   
party doesn't usually include Ken Dalby screaming in my ear."

"I'd take that over a pack of women chasing stripp--"

"Ensign Paris."

They both turned to find Tuvok standing by the holodeck door with a   
look of faint annoyance.

Harry piped up, "We were just -- comparing notes."

"Be that as it may, I must insist that Mr. Paris return to the holodeck  
to complete the purification ceremony." Tuvok's gaze softened, slightly.   
"I must admit that Mr. Neelix's screams of "Oh God please save me from   
my unholy lusts" are perhaps not conducive to the matter at hand. However,   
Commander Chakotay went to great pains to create this ceremony, and it is   
therefore beholden upon you to attend." 

Tom sighed and gave Harry a mournful look as he gently caressed his cheek.   
"Oh well, I guess if everyone else has to suffer through it, I might as   
well suffer along. See you for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Forget that, Tom," B'Elanna called out from behind them as she latched   
on to Harry's arm. "The groom ishn't supposed to see the -- um, groom,"   
and she snickered, "before the weeding. Wedding!" She giggled as she   
dragged Harry back to Holodeck One.

"Do you get the idea she's enjoying this just a bit too much?" Tom   
wondered aloud as he and Tuvok rejoined the others.

"She probably is," was the Vulcan's unexpected response.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry sat on his sofa stock still, trying not to move too much due to the   
enormous migraine he now had. B'Elanna was snoring beside him, drooling   
on his shoulder as Seven prodded her own face with her fingers, speaking up   
occasionally to inquire as to why her face had no feeling and why her tongue   
felt hairy. The Captain had long since retired to her own quarters after   
seeing him to his own. It wouldn't do to pass out in front of subordinate   
officers, after all.

He watched in trepidation as the old-fashioned clock ticked down the minutes   
toward his wedding. It was now almost seven A.M. and Tom would be at his   
wedding breakfast; Harry doubted any of his wedding party could hold theirs   
down. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could so as not to blow up his   
own head and reached carefully into his pocket for an aspirin. 

"Great." He looked down with a scowl. No aspirin, but at least someone   
remembered the edible boxers. He almost threw them across the room but then   
reconsidered; he could be stuck here for a while and he might need the   
sustenance later. He put them back in his pocket.

"Ensign Kim!"

Harry winced and moaned as the Holodoc appeared in the doorway. "Ugh."

"Ugh indeed. I hope that you enjoyed yourself last night?"

Harry managed to stammer, "I, um -- ulp --" before springing to his feet   
and staggering into the fresher room.

A few minutes later, he emerged, paler but a bit more steady. He held onto  
the back of the chair for support, nearly grabbing on to Sam Wildman's head   
as she dozed in a crumpled heap.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You'll be pleased to know that I've decided   
to take pity on you, Ensign," he said as he pressed a hypospray to Harry's   
neck. "Alcohol anti-toxin. Consider it my wedding gift."

Harry let out a breath as the effects of the anti-toxin coursed through   
his veins, clearing his head and settling his churning stomach. "I don't   
think I could get anything better. Thanks, Doc."

The hologram nodded curtly. "If you're feeling better, perhaps you could   
help me with these --" and he surveyed the scene, his face a study in   
disgust, "-- patients. I've already visited the Captain, of course; she'd   
prefer if the female members of the senior staff were conscious for today's   
festivities. And of course she needs someone to actually run the ship." 

"That would be a good idea, huh?" Harry said as he rubbed the spot on his   
neck where the hangover remedy had been administered. He looked around.   
"Let's do B'Elanna first. She is, after all, my best man...sort of."

The Doctor cleared his throat and turned towards the normally elegantly   
beautiful half-Klingon who was currently sprawled across the couch and   
making a horrible noise. Stepping up to his charge, he leaned in to   
administer the spray. "Klingons snore...rather loud, don't they?" he   
muttered to himself as well as the Ensign as he moved her hair out   
out the way. "I must one day write a paper on..."

B'Elanna awoke suddenly and locked her hands around the Doctor's neck,   
"Whassup Doc!" she cackled drunkenly as she kissed him hard on the mouth.

The doc attempted to pry himself loose and stand at the same time. "Mmmph!   
*muffle*Torre-mmmph! Please, get ahold of..."

"Hee hee hee! I am trying to get a hold of..." she cackled as she cupped his   
bottom merrily, making Harry groan and blush in sympathy of her inevitable   
embarrassment later. The doc scowled and administered the spray quickly,   
"Ow!" she called out. "That..." Her head began to clear almost instantly.   
"Where am I?" She suddenly noticed the rather risque placement of her hands   
and pulled them away as though burned.

Harry walked over to the replicator and ordered up a large pot of coffee.   
"Good morning--here." He handed a cup to her even as he took a long draught   
of his own.

The Doctor cleared his nonexistent throat again. "I'll go wake up the   
others." He gave B'Elanna a look that said 'you'll never live this one down'.

She returned his glared and sipped at her mug then winced at the strong  
taste before drinking again. "One hell of a party last night, huh?"

Seven piped up from the corner, "Doctor, my tongue appears to be developing   
hair follicles on it. It is a most curious and unpleasant phenomenon."

"I'll be right there, Seven." he responded as he took care of Sam.

"Sure was, B'Elanna," Harry said dryly as he sat next to her carefully, his   
head still a little tender.

"Doctor," Seven asked, "can you explain to me what the lack of hair on   
your head has to do with the proportions of your..."

"One hell of a party," B'Elanna repeated with a wicked grin as she took   
in the stupefied expression on the Doctor's face.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"And as we accept this food, O Creator of Life and Guardian of Death, we   
thank you for the gifts we have been given this evening. As the raven soars   
over her domain, we entrust our souls to you so that they may also soar   
over what is right and good and pure." Chakotay touched a match to the stack   
of dried sweetgrass. "May our offering bring us peace and purity."

*Eight A.M.,* Tom thought, *and not a damn egg in sight.* He chewed his   
bark and sighed. If his friends at the Academy ever found out that he had   
spent his bachelor party in an overheated, smelly teepee with a dozen other   
men screaming and shouting in his ears and smoke stinging his eyes and   
making his nose run, they'd laugh their butts off. Hell, if it wasn't   
his party he'd probably be laughing too.

A sharp splinter suddenly embedded itself in his gums. He groaned as he   
fished around with a finger in a vain attempt to dislodge it. *Shit.*

He eyed with suspicion the dried beef being passed around now, idly   
wondering what deep, mysterious cultural meaning it held. As far as   
Tom could tell, every damn thing they had done had had some kind of long,   
convoluted, mind-numbingly dull legend attached to it. Chakotay had   
actually put Tuvok to sleep with one of the stories, which was a first   
as far as Tom knew. *How the hell does this guy pick up chicks,* he   
wondered. *Probably talks to them until they become zombies.*

He reached to take a chunk of shrivelled meat when his comm badge chirped.

{Janeway to Paris. Please report to my ready room.}

*Thank you, Creator,* he thought as he acknowledged the order and stood to   
leave. "Duty calls," he said with a smile.

He stepped out of the teepee and took a deep breath of fresh air. Finally.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

B'Elanna hefted the large basket onto the table as she looked around the   
decorated suite for the first time. "Wow."

Neelix also glanced around in appreciation. "Very nice!" He nodded to himself.

They were on a calm virgin beach at sunset. The altar was just a garden   
arch decorated with small pretty blossoms--yellow roses, daisies, and small   
clusters of white babies breath and yellow and purple status. The white   
lattice work was kept simple save for a large buttercup yellow bow in   
the center, its long graceful tails sweeping the perfect sand as the waves   
crashed on the shore in front of them.

"Understated," B'Elanna said as she looked at the simple, undecorated rows   
of white folding chairs and white linen-draped reception table filled with   
food.

Neelix frowned. "Very."

For a second they stood together, observing the scene. B'Elanna took a small   
step forward, "I think..."

"Yeah?" Neelix looked up hopefully.

"Just a *few* more flowers?" She quirked an eyebrow at the Talaxian   
uncertainly.

Neelix grinned, "Absolutely--I get this side!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry stood before the full length mirror in holodeck three, next to holodeck   
four where B'Elanna and Neelix had their teams decorating the beach program   
and setting the food out for the reception. He felt a nervous flutter in   
his stomach and felt entirely unwell. 'I hope I get through this without   
fainting,' he thought. It would ruin the most important day of his life,   
and probably the most important night as well. 

Thoughts of his wedding night proved to unsettle his stomach even more.   
Tonight he would give himself body and soul to Tom Paris. His beloved. He   
gulped hard. If it was so beautiful, why was he so frightened? "Stop that!'   
he admonished. 'It will be beautiful. I love him, he loves me, how could   
it be anything but perfect?'

A simulated door in the back of the dressing room slid aside, and Seven,   
Sam and the holographic tailor came in. Seven and Sam were breathtaking in   
matching mint green sleeveless gowns with flared skirts, matching pumps and   
evergreen accents.

"Ensign Kim. Are you prepared for your final fitting?" Seven asked without   
inflection.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, trying not to allow the dread to   
ring through. Harry was taken a bit by surprise when a mature Cardassian man   
stepped forward, holding a container of gathers and other tailoring implements.

The Cardassian nodded his head politely, and said, "Allow me to introduce   
myself. I am Mr. Garak. I was contracted by the makers of the EMH as the   
test model for the ETH: the Emergency Tailoring Holographic Program. One   
never knows when one will need the services of a good tailor," Garak supplied   
with a wink.

Somehow, Harry found himself to be oddly unsettled by the hologram's friendly   
behavior, which was really doing nothing to help his pre-wedding jitters. He   
simply nodded in return, but felt he should keep a vigilant eye on this man.

"Now, Mr. Kim, if you'll step to the center of the room and raise your arms,   
we can begin." The tailor placed his hand on the small of Harry's back,   
guiding him to a specific spot, before reaching into his basket for the   
gathers and scanner. A few quick measurements, and suddenly the Cardassian   
had his hands in some places no one had touched him before. Harry flushed deep   
red with embarrassment. He didn't want Sam and Seven to see him in this   
position, but he was afraid to ask them to leave. He *really* did not want   
to be alone with the ETH.

As if the canny Cardassian could read his mind, he straightened, stepped   
close to Harry's back and said over his shoulder to the two women, "I will   
need for you ladies to step outside a moment. It will be necessary for Mr.   
Kim to unrobe."

Harry's eyes must have grown twice their normal size. His heart stopped for   
a few seconds, and then picked up again in a rapid, nervous tattoo.

He wanted to plead, 'No, please, don't leave me in here alone!', but that   
would sound ridiculous. He was a grown man, about to get married, and he   
was afraid of a holographic tailor? Unbelievable.

Seven turned without a word and stepped through the door, but Harry caught   
the smirk on Samantha Wildman's face, and suddenly he knew exactly who was   
behind this little prank. A fine way to treat the person who saved your   
newborn baby, sort of.

He stared after the two women so long that he jumped to feel strong arms come   
around him from behind, and looked down to see gray fingers working at the   
buttons of his tuxedo jacket. "I- I- I can do that! Really. Just a minute," he   
stammered as he quickly stepped forward out of the circle of Garak's arms.

What was he doing?! He was voluntarily undressing for this... this.... hologram?   
This hologram who was designed to do a job, to fit him for his tuxedo, for his   
wedding. His nerves must have gotten the better of him, he must be imagining   
things.

He took a deep, fortifying breath, and with shaky fingers undid each of the   
buttons on his jacket, slipped it off of his shoulders, then followed it with   
his trousers, taking care not to wrinkle them. He didn't want to give 'Garak'   
any excuse to keep him undressed for any longer than he had to be.

"What a lovely physique you have, Mr. Kim. Such smooth golden skin. I've always   
found gold to be such an intoxicating color." The tailor sighed wistfully,   
causing Harry's brow to wrinkle in confusion. The hologram seemed to be thinking   
about something, having a private moment. Wow, Starfleet really had gone out   
of their way with this one.

The tailor accepted Harry's pants and jacket, giving him one more unnervingly   
lecherous look before going to the work bench located on one side of the room.   
Harry found himself surprised that he hadn't seen it before. As if it just   
appeared there out of mere convenience. With a few quick, efficient movements,   
the tailor's nimble fingers manipulated Harry's pants, adjusting them and   
sealing the new hem. Then he turned with a lascivious grin.

"Here you are, Mr. Kim. Shall we try these on and... check the fit?" Harry   
warily stepped forward and reached for his trousers. Mr. Garak pulled them back   
from his reach. "Allow me to help you. After all, we wouldn't want you sprawled   
on the floor or for you to soil and wrinkle your trousers, would we?" Carefully,   
he held open the waist band, and held the pants down in a manner that reminded   
Harry of his mom helping him to dress for school when he was young. Reluctantly,   
he picked up his foot, and just as he was slipping his leg in, the tailor moved,   
just enough that Harry lost his balance. Harry fell forward, catching himself   
against Garak's broad, hard chest, his arm around the corded neck. Instantly   
he felt the Cardassian's thick, strong arm close around him.

Harry jumped back as if he had been burned. "I can get myself dressed," he   
snapped a bit more harshly than he had intended. His nerves were rattled   
enough without this tailor making it worse. He pulled his pants from the   
Cardassian's reluctant grip, and felt comforted as the polyester material   
slid up his thighs.

Garak seemed unfazed and leaned back, scrutinizing the fit and cut of the   
trousers. Then he knelt in front of the very flustered young man. "Mr. Kim,   
your inseam seems to be hanging oddly. Allow me to fix it." Before Harry knew   
what Garak meant, the large gray hand had gone to his crotch, cupping his   
weighty testicles through the thick fabric.

The fluttering in Harry's stomach suddenly went from butterflies to   
shuttlecraft. Pre-wedding nerves, this stranger literally scaring the pants   
off of him, and the still slightly woozy feeling from the alcohol he had   
indulged in bubbled up within him, and he was mortified to look down and   
see the tailor's sleek black head covered in Harry's breakfast. 'Well, at   
least his hand is out of my crotch,' Harry thought resignedly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"You know, Tom, marriage is a very big step," the Captain said over her tenth cup   
of coffee.

Tom nodded, forgetting for the moment that Janeway knew as little as he did   
about the state. "I know, I know." He stared out the windows of her ready room.   
"Maybe that's why I feel like my stomach is about to self-destruct."

She followed his gaze out the window, then turned back, her face uneasy. "Are   
you worried about...."

"About the wedding night?" He sighed. "Want to know the truth? I'm terrified.   
I mean, here is this guy who has never been with another person, who has no   
frame of reference; what if I screw it up? What if I do something and he hates   
it and he ends up hating himself and -- oh God what am I going to do?"

"You are going to be fine, Mister."

"I wish I had your confidence. Harry is so young and so innocent and so --"

Janeway arched an eyebrow. "Tough? Resilient? For heaven's sake, Tom, he's come   
back from the dead more times than most Starfleet officers see active duty!"

But Tom wasn't listening. "He's so -- Captain, I couldn't handle it if I hurt   
him. Sure, he looks tough and strong and all that, but inside, where it counts,   
he's really a delicate flower and I'm so afraid I'll crush him." Tears flowed   
down his face. "I couldn't bear it if I did that."

"Tom," Janeway murmured as she cradled the crying pilot on her shoulder, "Tom,   
give Harry some credit. Yes, he's young, and he certainly hasn't had an easy   
time of it in the Delta Quadrant, but that delicate flower you speak of is   
really made of duranium. He's one of the strongest young men I've ever met.   
You know, if I had a son I'd be pretty proud if he took after Harry. Or you,   
for that matter."

Tom sniffed and pulled away. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, I do." She sighed, reaching over to squeeze Tom's shoulder. "Now I know   
that you are the last man on this ship to need a mother-son talk about   
you-know-what." They both laughed. "However, I don't know if you've ever had   
to deal with this kind of situation before. Virginity is a very tricky thing;   
I remember when --" She flushed for a second, then smiled. "But that's neither   
here nor there. What I wanted to do was to give you this." She held out a book.

"The Joy of Gay Sex," Tom read off the cover.

"I've bookmarked a section which you might want to read before -- well, before   
you know," she said with a slight blush.

Tom nodded uneasily. "All right," he murmured, wondering why the Captain would   
have her own personal copy of a book dedicated to gay male lovemaking.

A huge grin spread across her face. "So what's your first stop this morning?"   
she asked.

"I think I'll go grab some breakfast."

"Didn't Chakotay give you a wedding breakfast?"

He rolled his eyes. "Tree bark, dried-up meat, cactus juice and -- and get   
this -- he burned grass and blew the smoke into my eyes."

"Pulled out all the stops, did he?" She snickered. "At least you're in a state   
to eat breakfast. I have a feeling your fiance isn't quite up to it, going by   
how I feel."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

B'Elanna looked around quite pleased by the changes they had wrought in so   
short a time. "Now THIS is a wedding!"

Neelix grinned and adjusted the huge purple, blue, and neon orange bow at the   
center of the fiery cave that now housed the wedding preparations. "Yup. The   
beach wedding thing is too overdone."

B'Elanna swung the large blood-encrusted bat'leth in a wide arc, testing its   
balance. "Now this is everything a wedding should be!" She looked up. "Got the   
blood wine?"

Neelix nodded. "And the tube grubs to throw at the grooms afterward."

"Tube grubs?" she asked in confusion.

"Y'know...those little white things..."

"Oh yeah." She looked at the chairs which were now ornate and draped with   
hundreds of layers of blue silk in dozens of shades. "Good thing we decided   
to help them out," she frowned. "Didn't Harry know that cerulean blue was Tom's   
favorite color?"

Neelix glowed in appreciation. "Check out the flowers!" he said hopping down   
from his stool.

She gazed at the huge wreaths of magnolias, poinsettias, and bright orange   
dahlias littering the dank cave floor. "Smells nice."

Neelix waved his hand in a modest gesture. "I tried to keep with the original   
scheme...only BIGGER!" he beamed. "Y'know?"

B'Elanna picked up a large wilting magnolia, her head snapping back from the   
almost overwhelmingly sweet smell, "Goes nicely with the sulphur fire pots."

Neelix looked over at the beautiful half-Klingon and allowed his jaded eye   
to travel up the long well-shaped leg exposed by the short skirt of the simple   
mint and evergreen shift she wore. "Say, B'Elanna..."

"Yes?" she said, as she smiled into the large waxy flower she held in her   
blood-spattered hand.

Neelix sidled over to her slyly, "Say, has anyone ever told you what a..."   
he breathed outward allowing the scent of his Talaxian mouth pheromones to   
drape her in their majesty, "beautiful woman of taste you are?"

B'Elanna allowed her lips to come within centimeters of the Talaxian's own.   
"No..."

Neelix leaned toward her, his breath catching in his chest. "No?"

Suddenly the razor-sharp Klingon sword was between their bodies. "But I   
have been told I was a dangerous bitch more than once."

Neelix swallowed his pheromones quickly as he felt the blade against his   
lower abdomen...his *much* lower abdomen. "Oh."

Sam chose that particular moment to breeze in, "Finish setting up the...  
JESUSGAWD! What the hell happened?!?"

"What do you mean?" Neelix asked as both he and his co-conspirator looked   
up in confusion.

"Jee-zus!" Sam grabbed her nose, "Smells like a goddamn whorehouse farted   
in here!"

Tuvok chose to walk in at that exact moment. "Oy," the Vulcan said quietly   
in an almost shocking display of...well, shock. Wildman tried to control the   
laughter that would possibly force her to breath in more of the foul stench   
decorating the holosuite. 

Regaining his composure, Tuvok walked stiffly up the aisle. "Computer, reset   
holoprogram P-K one to its original parameters." As if it had never been, the   
room again became the soft sunset beach front, "As for the two of you," Tuvok   
glared, "I will thank you not to interfere further in the wedding preparations."

B'Elanna appeared almost contrite as she scowled back, "We were only trying to   
help!"

Neelix nodded, "We just added a few minor..."

"Minor?" Sam scoffed.

"Old Earth philosophers had a phrase befitting that very brand of 'help',   
Mr Neelix." Tuvok paused dramatically. "Hell is paved with good intentions.   
Now, I believe you both have other assignments to attend to."

Both miscreants muttered darkly to themselves as the left the 'suite. "Party   
pooper," Neelix sighed.

As they left, Sam chuckled, taking in the peaceful scene before them.   
"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Tuvok breathed in deeply, "It is aesthetically pleasing, yes..."

Sam frowned amusedly. "But?"

Tuvok moved toward the simple wreath above the altar, "Perhaps a few more   
flowers..."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The vomit stains had come out of his tuxedo   
thanks to Mr Garak's vigilance. He almost felt sorry for the tailor, but then   
he remembered that the Cardassian had been just a hologram. A very - friendly -   
hologram. Nope, he wasn't sorry.

At least now his stomach was empty. His nerves mounted again, but there was   
no longer any real threat of him vomiting at the altar.

He stood nervously outside the door to Holosuite Four, surrounded by B'Elanna,   
Seven and Sam. As they listened, the first strains of organ music reached their   
ears. B'Elanna gave him a smile and thumbs up before squaring her shoulders and   
marching through the door. Then she was followed by Sam, and finally Seven.   
Harry waited, and when he heard the music change to the traditional "Here Comes   
The Bride", he swallowed a deep breath and stepped into the holosuite. He nearly   
fainted. Everyone who could be excused from duty was there. And they were all   
staring at him. He suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to check his zipper.

Then he looked up. There by the altar stood the most handsome man he had ever   
seen. Wavy blond hair brushed back; those blue, blue eyes piercing him to his   
soul; broad, muscular shoulders only hinted at under the thick material of the   
burgundy tuxedo. *We can do anything, as long as we do it together* he thought,  
as he took another deep breath and walked forward towards his destiny.

Tears formed in his eyes as he approached the altar and Tom reached for his hand.   
The Captain, resplendent in her dress uniform, stood in front of them and beamed.   
"From time to time," she began, "a starship captain is permitted the happy duty   
of joining two crew members in wedded bliss. I come before you today to join   
these men in marriage, but I admit, my responsibilities as Captain have never   
felt less like a duty than they do right now. Harry and Tom have chosen to write   
their own vows. Gentlemen?"

Tom smiled into Harry's deep mesmerizing pools of celestial beauty and whispered,   
"I will always love you."

Harry beamed at him as the music began to swell around them:

"I'll be your dream   
I'll be your wish   
I'll be your fantasy   
I'll be your hope   
I'll be your love   
Be everything that you need." 

The crowd sighed as the light tones of the young man's voice washed over them.   
His words were saturated in his undying devotion to the beaming light-haired   
rogue whom his innocence had tamed at long last.

Tom lifted his hand and kissed it before allowing his own emotions to take a   
songbird's flight:

"I'll love you more with every breath   
Truly, madly, deeply do   
I will be strong   
I will be faithful   
'cause I'm counting on you..." 

His eyes darkened to a deep cerulean blue as he sang the next verse, strong   
and filled with pure emotion. 

"A new beginning   
A reason for living   
A deeper meaning.."

Their voices enmeshed themselves as the love they felt was finally given   
great gossamer wings of eternal devotion:

"I want to stand with you on a mountain   
I want to bathe with you in the sea   
I want to lay like this forever   
Until the sky falls down on me..."

Harry smiled as he saw the tears roll unfettered down Tom's perfect cheeks,  
then realized that he and most of the congregation were also crying. 

"And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky,   
I'll make a wish send it to heaven then make you want to cry   
The tears of joy for all the certainty   
That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection of The highest powers   
In lonely hours   
The tears devour you.."

At that moment, the bridesmaids and groom attendants took up the chorus:

"I want to stand with you on a mountain   
I want to bathe with you in the sea   
I want to lay like this forever   
Until the sky falls down on me..."

"Oh can you see it baby?" Tom kissed the knuckles of his innocent young   
groom reverently. 

"You don't have to close your eyes   
'cause it's standing right here before you   
All that you need will surely come   
I'll be your dream   
I'll be your wish   
I'll be your fantasy..."

Harry vowed:

"I'll be your hope   
I'll be your love   
Be everything that you need   
I'll love you more with every breath.." 

as their bodies pressed close, now totally oblivious to the dozens of people   
sharing in their joy. 

Their voices came together one last time, "Truly, madly, deeply do."

"Well, gentlemen," the Captain said, brushing the tears out of her eyes, "I   
suppose that all I can say now, is that by the powers invested in me as a   
Starfleet Captain, I pronounce you husband -- and husband. You may kiss the   
groom."

Tom gently, reverently, cupped his husband's face in his hands. They kissed:   
a perfect meeting of hearts, souls and bodies.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just be glad that the third part of the trilogy, Kisses in the Rain; The BABY!, was fortunately lost for all time. ---Jen


End file.
